retorted.
'This conversation is unpleasant for all of us,' Ghikas interrupted. 'Let's get to the point.'
I turned to Petratos. 'At the time that Martha Kostarakou was murdered, your car was seen parked in Monis Sekou Street, two streets away from Ieronos Street, where Kostarakou lived. Can you tell me what you were doing there at the time of the murder?'
'Are you certain that it was my car?'
'It was a black Renegade, license number XRA 4318. That is your car, isn't it?' The witness hadn't made a note of the plate number, but I was fishing in the dark to see what I'd catch.
Flummoxed, Petratos looked to his lawyer, who didn't look at all alarmed. On the contrary, he smiled encouragingly at his client, full of self-confidence, it seemed.
'Tell the truth, Nestor, you've nothing to be afraid of.'
'I don't know when exactly Martha Kostarakou was murdered, but I was in the area between five-thirty and seven-thirty that evening, yes. I'd gone to see a friend of mine.'
'Who is this friend of yours? Name? Address?' At last, I could put pressure on him.
'Why do you want that information?'
'Come now, Mr. Petratos,' said Ghikas, with a silky smile. 'You know that we are obliged to verify what you say. We're not disputing the truth of your answers, it's simply standard procedure'
Petratos was even more discomfited. He hesitated and then said, 'I'm sorry, but I can't give you the girl's details.'
'Why?'
'There are certain reasons that bind me not to disclose her identity.'
'We have no reason to embarrass the woman concerned unless it's absolutely necessary.'
The lawyer interrupted once more. 'Mr. Petratos is under no obligation to answer you.,,
'I'm well aware of that, but if he does answer, he'll be helping both himself and us. Otherwise, he'll be forcing us to look more deeply into the matter.'
'Then look more deeply,' the lawyer snapped. 'You looked into the handwriting sample and found nothing. And you won't find anything now either, because there's no murder without a motive. And my client had no motive for murdering either Karayoryi or Kostarakou.'
'Mr. Petratos had a romantic liaison with Karayoryi. He helped her move up professionally and she ditched him. We know that Karayoryi was looking to get Mr. Petratos's job. So he certainly had grounds for disliking her a great deal.'
Petratos suddenly laughed. 'Perhaps Karayoryi was after my job, but she didn't have the slightest chance of getting it. Not the slightest, Inspector. I can assure you of that.' He said it with such conviction that I was astonished.
Sotiriou got to his feet. 'I think our conversation has come to an end,' he said. 'If you're so sure that Mr. Petratos is the murderer, you have no option but to detain him. But I warn you that I'll inform the public prosecutor that you are holding him without any evidence. And I'll have the whole journalistic world drag your name through the mud.'
I made one last move, knowing that it would come to nothing. 'A piece of the wire used to murder Kostarakou was found under Mr. Petratos's car.'
'If you try to prove that the murder was committed with that particular piece of wire, I'll prove to you that it could have been committed with wire from my own garden.' He turned to Petratos. 'Let's go, Nestor. We have nothing more to say.' He turned to Ghikas. 'My respects, Superintendent.' It was a negligible thing to me, unnecessary to say anything.
'What have we got out of all this business?' Ghikas asked me once Koula had shown them out.
I was clutching at straws. 'First, we didn't know whether the Renegade did actually belong to Petratos because our witness hadn't noticed the plate number. Now we know for certain that it was his. Second, we now have this business with Petratos's woman friend. Either he's bluffing, or he's covering for someone well known. Probably the latter.'
'And what do we do now?'
'We'll try to find the woman so as not to leave any stone unturned.'
From his look, I could tell that I hadn't convinced him. I changed the subject, told him about Sovatzis, the transplants, and the refrigerator trucks belonging to Transpilar. After the smack in the eye with Petratos, he seemed somewhat relieved that I wasn't going to light any more fires by going straight after Pylarinos.
I saved the matter of the customs officer for the end. 'I want to find him, and as quickly as possible. You see, the worst thing about this case is that we don't know what the motive for the murder was and so have to look into every possibility. Petratos and Sovatzis, the transplants and the refrigerator trucks, all the avenues.'
'If we ever figure it out, I'll light a candle to the Virgin,' he said despairingly.
I found Sotiropoulos in front of my door. 'Did you see my report on the news yesterday?'
'Yes,' I said drily.
'Just you wait. With a little more investigation, I'll show how the whole Kolakoglou business was a setup.'
'I'd like to be there when the girl's father files a suit against you.'
'Do you think he'd risk it? He'd have to put her on the stand, and the lawyers would tear her to pieces.'
I turned the handle on my door in order to disappear into my office before I threw up, but he took hold of my arm.
'I have something else for you.'
'What is it?'
He leaned toward my ear and whispered confidentially: 'Delopoulos sacked Petratos last night.'
'I've heard that before.'
'This time it's certain. Tomorrow or the day after, the bomb will go off. You're the first to learn about it.'
'And why are you so pleased this time?'
'Because he'll come knocking on the door of our channel, and I'll make sure he doesn't get in.'
I was about to shut the door in his face when I saw Sotiris coming. 'Sorry, but I have work to do,' I said curtly.
'I've found Hourdakis,' Sotiris said when we were alone. 'He has a farm in Milessi.'
'Where's Milessi?'
'Just beyond Malakassa. On the road you turn down to go to Oropos.'
'Well done. Get ready and we'll be off.'
He looked at me surprised. 'Don't you want me to have him brought here?'
'No, I would rather that we go and find him.' A little country air would do me good.
After we'd passed Filothei, the traffic on Kifissias Avenue thinned out and we were in Kifissia in less than half an hour. But just as we turned down from Nea Erythraia to get onto the motorway, the heavens opened and the rain came down cats and dogs. Fortunately, there was no traffic on the motorway and even though I didn't go over 60 kph, we soon arrived at Malakassa. The village was deserted, not a soul on the streets. I stopped in front of the police station and sent Sotiris in to ask if they knew the farm where Hourdakis lived. While I was waiting for him, I rolled down the window to inhale the smell of the wet pine, but the rain drenched my sleeve. I rolled up the window, cursing.
Sotiris came back on the double and jumped into the car. They didn't know where Hourdakis lived and advised us to ask at the kiosk when we got to Milessi. Why hadn't I thought of that? In Greece, whatever the police don't know you can find out by asking the kiosk vendors.
The road to Milessi was deserted. The plain stretched out to the right. On the left was the abandoned army camp of Malakassa, gradually going to ruin. Two kilometers farther on, the plain ended and we entered a pine forest. The rain had lost its force and was now falling slowly, tiredly. The road began to wind downward. As we rounded a corner, we found the kiosk in front of us, next to the bus stop. The vendor pointed out a narrow dirt track. The Mirafiori kept getting stuck in the mud. I would have to come back in reverse.
At the end of the track, to our left, an enormous farm came into view, reaching up the hillside and most likely stretching as far back as the Oropos road. The house stood out in the distance. It was a big three-story building. It
